


Mindfuck

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Our Blades Are Sharp [29]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: (Phae does it to herself), (and then consumes A LOT of alcohol), (it's what happens when you have a Thought that shouldn't be thought), Gen, Mind Manipulation, Sith Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, <em>Phae's Liver Is Going to Be Supremely Unhappy in the Morning</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Mindfuck

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [tumblr](http://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/83108952434/swtor-mindfuck-or-phaes-liver-is-unhappy) in April 2014.
> 
> Darth Valere belongs to [infiniteprobabilities](infiniteprobabilities.tumblr.com/) (Ippie). Armitage Serexith, Valere's son, belongs to [exvind](http://exvind.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This little ficlet was the result of me and Ippie brainstorming some silly headcanons about Armitage and how many of the female apprentices and minor Lords in the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge are fangirls of him and even though he is very much A Bad Man, think they can ~*~change him~*~. (The joke is that Armitage fangirls are the GFFA/SWTOR equivalent of Loki fangirls.) Armitage uses the fangirls for his creepier experiments.
> 
> I had a Thought before bed later that night. I decided to give it to Phae. :D

Once, when the lines of the research report on her datapad were blurring and she’d been awake for closing in on twenty-six hours, Darth Makhaira had a Thought:

If Armitage Serexith was a little less murderously insane and a little less disturbingly co-dependent with his twin sister, he and her Sotiria would make adorable children together.

She ruminated on this idea for a few moments, idly picking out the perfect combination of facial features for hypothetical grandchildren (one for her, one for Darth Valere), before she realized what she was doing.

(If anyone were there in the office to observe Darth Makhaira at the moment of realization, they would have seen her golden tanned skin turn gray, her eyes widen into near-perfect circles, and her pupils shrink to pinpricks of black against the green of the irises.

If anyone but her husband or immediate family were there, Darth Makhaira, of course, would have killed them.)

She gathered the thought close, and with a quick, deft twist of the Force, destroyed it utterly. She also destroyed the line of reasoning that led her to that thought for good measure, and put up a mental warning sign for herself. (She also attached an incentive to herself to continue encouraging her youngest daughter’s interest in that lovely captain of hers in a healthy manner, and get the rest of the family to back the fuck off.)

Once she was done ripping thoughts from her head and crushing them under her metaphorical heel, Tryphaena Renatus was still left with a lingering sense of stunned horror, although she no longer blessedly knew precisely _why._

There were ways to cope with that, at least.

Phae reached into one of the drawers of her desk, and pulled out a full bottle of Borleiasian absinthe. She unscrewed the cap, brought the bottle to her lips, and tipped back her head, downing half the absinthe in less than a minute.

Slamming the bottle down on her desk, Phae hiccuped, but smiled. Numb already. _Excellent._


End file.
